Unexpected Results
by Xazz
Summary: Kinkmeme prompt asking for Malik addicted to coffee on a caffeine high. -oneshot-


Kinkmeme prompt asking for Malik addicted to coffee on a caffeine high. Please to enjoy.

* * *

It was always easy to tell when Malik was upset. It usually involved novices crouched around the entrance of the bureau, peering inside like a bunch of nervous hens while they went in one at a time to make sure Malik couldn't kill them all at once. Of course there was only one reason why Malik was ever really in _that_ sort of a mood. Normally Altair would just wait for Malik to get what he needed to calm the fuck down, but today he couldn't wait. He needed Malik's permission to complete his mission.

So seeing a bunch of novices at the trellised entrance made Altair frown. But again, he could not wait, doing so would cause him to miss the perfect moment to strike since Malik only stopped acting like a brat after he'd had a nap or a night's sleep. But since the sun was still mostly overhead it didn't look like that was happening anytime soon. Luckily he'd brought a peace offering to try and soften Malik's sharp tongue and smooth over their normal heated interactions.

Shoving the novices out of the way, only for them to quickly spring away once they saw who it was Altair dropped through the entrance. The novice who'd been in the main building scuttled out then, head down and brushed passed Altair with a hint of apology before he scrambled up to the roof. There was some whispers passed between the novices who still seemed nervouse, since Malik could be fierce when he wanted to, one arm or no. But Altair ignored them.

"Ah, as if my day was not complete without a visit from a true novice," Malik said as soon as Altair entered the bureau's shaded room.

"Safety and peace Malik," were Altair's only words and went over to the counter, "I brought you something to help with your nerves before you kill the novices."

"I do not want anything you may have to-

Malik trailed off when Altair reached to his belt and pulled out a full flask, it was almost hot to the touch and took a cup that Malik had on the counter, setting it in front of him. He uncorked the flask and poured part of it's contents into the porcelain, smirking slightly at the way Malik's eyes were glued to the dark liquid. Poor Malik had become terribly addicted to a new drink to surface in Jerusalem. It wasn't exactly to Altair's taste, it left his mouth feeling chalky after drinking, but Malik enjoyed it at any rate.

"For you rafiq," Altair held out the cup to Malik.

"Where did you get this?" he demanded but took the cup anyway, sipped it and sighed. Altair could see a bit of strain leave his body when he drank like it was some life giving elixir.

"The market. A very kind vendor made it for me to bring along," he put the flask on the counter.

Malik didn't speak until he'd finished the first cup, "Different from how I normally drink it; but acceptable," he said as if to himself inspecting the now empty cup. "What do you want?" he turned sharp eyes on Altair now.

"I have learned of my target's whereabouts," Altair said before telling Malik all he'd learned about his target. As he knew it would be Malik did not put up as great a fight before handing over a feather for Altair's purposes. Soon after he left, the novices stared at him as he climbed up to the roof. "It's safe now," was all he said and the novices looked between each other wondering what Altair had done, but didn't seem to be complaining since they quickly climbed down. Altair smirked to himself as he left as he heard Malik yelling at them. He may had blunted his tongue towards Altair with his gift, but one cup wasn't nearly enough to see Malik calm enough to deal with a group of annoying novices.

—

It was quiet when Altair returned to the bureau, and the novices were once again crowded around the entrance, though now instead of afraid they merely looked anxious. They looked up at him when he neared the entrance and there was some muttering in his direction, angry muttering. "You," he directed his words to one novice, "Speak," he ordered.

"What did you do to the rafiq?" he asked.

"Nothing. Now what are you all doing here and not doing as your rafiq has ordered you?" he demanded, he hated novices just hanging around when they always _always_ had things they could be doing. "Go," he said firmly startling them and they took off, to be away from the bureau as much as from an angry Master Assassin. Incompetents.

Altair jumped down to the garden, the bells had stopped now since he'd taken his time in returning. It was strangely quiet in the building and Altair felt like something was wrong. He moved into the main room of the place, Malik wasn't behind his desk and Altair quickly threw his eyes about the small room. Malik was on sitting on the floor with a large sheet of parchment in front of him as well as several inkwells of various colors.

"What are you doing Malik?" Altair asked and was startled when Malik's head popped up quickly, eyes wide, almost manically and Altair felt himself take a small step back.

"Ah, Altair you return," he spoke in a rapid, breathy voice, like he had just been caught doing something foolish or was guilty of something. "Where did you get that drink?" he asked quirking his head to the side in a very unMalik-like way.

"The market," he said then blinked, "Did you drink _all_ of it?" Altair asked a bit disbelievingly."

"It was delicious," Malik said.

"Oh," Altair couldn't help the chuckle that passed his lips. No wonder the novices had been anxious. They had obviously never seen Malik when he was hyper. Altair had, a few times, when they were children, it never ceased to amuse him either. Though he could suppose to some half witted novice it could look very much like the man was possessed by some sort of demon. "You shouldn't have done that," he said.

"Possibly," and Malik turned back from Altair drawing one of the inkwells closer to him and dipped his quill into it before using it to draw red lines over the erasable chalk of the underdrawing.

Altair walked over to the rafiq on the floor and knelt watching the older man's hand as he carefully drew the line across the material which after a few moments of looking at the chalk drawing realized was a truly gigantic map of Jerusalem. "You scared all the novices-

"Beh. They're like sparrows. Easy to scary and don't like to come back till they're sure it's safe. Such a sorry lot of novices we have," he spoke it all quickly, almost to fast for Altair to understand and he smirked. "You'd think the instructors at Masyaf would teach them better."

"They think you're possessed."

"The only think I'm possessed with is energy. Now what do you want? I'm busy you oaf," he shot Altair a look. Altair merely pulled out his bloodied feather, "Oh. Yes, I had totally forgotten," and suddenly Malik was on his feet and scuttled over to his desk. Altair watched him, more than a little amused to see that Malik was barefoot in his little escapade. "Don't touch my map," he snapped from behind his desk though Altair had made no motion towards it and that made him chuckle. The other man came back, carefully walking around his ink lines and flipped open the record book when he knelt again next to Altair. "Lets have it then novice," he held out his hand for the feather and Altair gave it to him.

He didn't watch Malik finish the entry of the kill and instead looked over what Malik was trying to do. It was a positively massive map he was attempting to create and was succeeding since more than half of the map had been filled in with familiar roads and lanes. Altair recognized much of it, especially the shortcuts across the city that allowed him to get places quickly. He started when Malik shut his record book and _threw it_ to the other side of his map before going back to the seemingly more enjoyable task of his giant map.

"Go away," Malik said after a few minutes of Altair watching him.

"I cannot watch?"

"No," Malik shot him an annoyed look.

"Why?"

"Because you are an annoying distraction like those other fool sparrow-novices."

"I am many things, like those young novices though I am not," Altair said.

"Altair," Malik said, "Go away," he said firmly, "Or I swear I will throw this inkwell at you," and he raised one of his pots.

Altair quickly got to his feet to avoid soiling his clothes and skin with the ink but only retreated to as far as the garden before falling into the pillows there. He knew Malik would tolerate him here if not actually inside and Altair did not want to go back out into the city where it was much less comfortable. He grinned privately to himself from the sounds of activity from inside the bureau.

It was only several hours later when it had been dark for quite a while did Altair finally cease hearing movement from inside. He'd come and gone since he'd first found Malik and his giant map, using some coin he'd stolen from a local to buy himself a half way decent supper. Once it was obvious there was no more action going on inside Altair finally ventured a look.

He wasn't surprised with what he found. Malik, slumped against the wall, his bare footed legs a tangle in front of him, sound asleep. His burst of energy had finally run its course and he'd crashed; hard. It was not at all unlike the times he'd fallen to sleep as a young novice after the rare occasions the cooks of Masyaf gave the novices sweets, usually on special occasions. Altair just shook his head and went over to Malik knowing better then to try and wake him, for he would not. He couldn't just leave the Dai there though, for that would just leave him to be crankier the next morning when not only had he not had his drink, but he had spent the night on the floor. It was not so much consequence to Altair but he decided to take pity on the poor novices who would have to deal with Malik in the morning and scooped him up against his chest.

Before he left the main room Altair cast an eye at the giant map. It was finished and, of course, perfect. Malik didn't tolerate anything but after all so it was not a surprise, even if the size was rather daunting. He trudged to the back rooms where the rafiq's quarters was, navigating the unfamiliar room by the feint light from the front room and put Malik onto his bed.

"Malik," Altair rolled his eyes, the rafiq did not want to let go when he put him down, he seemed to have grown fond of Altair's warmth on the short trip to the back room. Even though he knew it would do no good Altair gently smacked Malik's cheek to at least get his grip to loosen. He just sighed when it had the opposite effect. "And he calls me the idiot," he sighed, still leaning awkwardly over Malik's bed trying to disengage the man. After more than five minutes of trying to get Malik's hand to let go of Altair's robe and failing at that miserably (Malik's right hand had become considerably stronger as of late) he just gave up and pushed Malik over slightly in the bed before getting into it himself.

"You should stop drinking that stuff," Altair said to himself, since Malik wasn't awake to hear. "You do stupid things," he glanced down at the rafiq who was curled up against Altair's chest and for lack of better to do draped his arm lazily across Malik's waist.

He really hoped Malik wasn't in a terrible mood when he woke up or Altair had a feeling he'd get a face full of fist upon the other man waking up and finding Altair in his bed.


End file.
